Original subtitles

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

narrator: There is no destiny.

There are no soulmates.

There is no "one."

And yet it could be said that the core

of human concern is a desire to connect.

♪ ♪

Upon further exploration of this phenomenon,

it becomes clear that there is only so much

one can glean from examining a single life.

- Tequila!

- Congratulation, you're married!

- Yeah! For now.

[pulsing dance music]

Thanks!

narrator: Because for every choice that subject makes,

someone else is out there

charting an entirely different course.

- Bulleit rocks.

narrator: Marcus Watkins had always adapted

as a means of survival, carefully constructing

chameleonic variations of himself

in order to present a certain facade to the world.

As a result, his own impulses were often shrouded

in a fog of self-consciousness.

- What's up, nerd? - Hey, babe.

Sorry, it's Keely.

Josh has been all over me to get something good out of her.

- Finish that shit so we can dance.

- Yeah, totally. Just give me one second.

♪ ♪

- All right!

[indistinct laughter and chatter]

♪ ♪

- You gotta get them to stop putting you

on those influencer books.

- I think she's about to leave me alone.

I will come find you.

♪ ♪

- You sure you don't wanna go do a bump, baby?

- Uh, I'm good. I did one earlier.

- Yeah, like an hour ago. Whoo!

narrator: This is the story of Marcus Watkins.

[indistinct chatter]

- You're in my hiding spot, dude.

- Nah.

Nah, nah, this is my hiding spot.

I've been coming out here all night.

- Okay. - Who you hiding from?

- Darby--she keeps trying to get me to dance with her.

I'm like, "Dance with your husband."

- [laughs] - What?

- Are you one of those "doesn't dance at weddings" people?

- Honestly, I just can't dance in a room full of white people.

It makes me feel like I'm on display.

- Yup. - They all turn and look.

You'd be like, "what?" [laughter]

- I-I know the feeling.

Although, truth be told, I'm not a great dancer, so.

- Oh, that's too bad.

- [scoffs] Come--

Come on! This is dumb.

Sorry, it's like BuzzFeed became sentient

and wrote a book.

- What are you, a book critic or something?

- Close, I'm a book editor. - Oh.

- Yeah, that's usually the response I get.

- I'm sorry. Let me try that again.

That's incredible, wow. - Okay, all right.

- A book editor. - I know, I know, I know.

I know, I know, I know. - [laughs]

- Is this guy lost or what?

So, Mr. Book Editor,

do you have any recommendations for me?

- Oh, well, what are you into?

- Reading. - All right, smart ass.

My favorite thing I've read recently is this sci-fi thing

set in this alternate universe

where Haiti was never colonized.

- That's cool. - Yeah.

- What's it called? - It's not published yet.

- You had one job. - I know.

- One. - I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

But it's...

It's real good. I can't stop thinking about it.

And it's written by this kid who's,

like, finishing up the grad program over Colombia.

- Can you send it to me?

- Yeah, all right, yeah.

Give me your email.

I'm Marcus, by the way.

- Mia.

So how'd you end up at this sad-ass wedding?

- My wife used to work with Magnus.

- Cool.

- Yeah, I mean, we were surprised

we even got the invite.

I mean, he's not even that close with Emily.

- Emily?

- Yeah, she's the one doing the ice luge with the bride.

[indistinct chatter and laughter]

- [laughs]

That makes sense.

- "Makes sense"? What's that supposed to mean?

Makes sense? - Nothing.

Fucking finally, here's my Uber.

[laughs]

It was nice meeting you.

- Nice to meet you, too.

- For Mia?

[funky music]

narrator: When Marcus met his wife, Emily,

their very coupling had been a way for him to rebel.

While she wasn't considered the right choice

in his family of origin, she was his choice,

and that was all that mattered.

- Cake coming in! Beep, beep!

Time to celebrate the bride and groom!

- Mag, put me down! Put me down!

No, Magnus, Magnus, put me down, put me down!

- Okay! - Sorry.

I just don't like that. I'm sorry.

- All right, who wants cake?

Who wants it? [laughs]

Who are you?

- Magnus' friend.

- Ooh, we got a wrong answer! - Give me the knife.

- Easy there, killer. We don't want a lawsuit.

- Whoo!

- I had so much fun.

- Yeah, I bet you did, Scarface.

[laughter]

- Did you? - Yeah.

Yeah, totally.

Sorry, I couldn't get on your level.

- Okay, I'm coming down now.

You didn't do any mingling?

- No, no, I just had to deal with that work shit.

- I feel like I saw you through the window

talking to some girl.

- You feel like you saw me?

- Yes. [laughter]

- Who was she?

- Don't know, just some girl who works with Darby.

- Some girl who works with Darby

with a really nice red dress.

- Come on.

- Okay.

I gotta go to sleep.

Good night. - Good night.

- Unless you wanna have sex. - Oh.

Yeah, yeah.

I'm really tired. [laughter]

- It's okay.

As soon as I said it, I was like...

- But tomorrow, though.

- Tomorrow. - Gonna wear that ass out.

- Ooh, okay.

Can you put on a podcast?

- Now that I can do. What do you wanna listen to?

- Anything. I just need some noise.

- This is "Fresh Air." I'm Terry Gross.

My guest, comic W. Kamau Bell--

- Yes. - Oh, hell yeah.

- CNN, where he's hosting a new docuseries...

[door creaking, closing]

[phone buzzes]

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- Morning.

♪ ♪

Freddie. - Hey, what's up, Marcus?

- What's going on?

- All right, bye. You got a lot going on.

[indistinct chatter]

- Yo, buddy. - Hey, Josh, what's up?

- How's Keely's book coming? - It's coming.

We got a title, "Influencee to Influencer

"in 140 Easy Steps, open parentheses,

"Really 141 Steps, But Who's Counting?

Winky face emoji, close parentheses."

- That's the whole title? - Yeah.

- That's too long. - You think?

- You know how well these books do for us.

- Oh, yeah, you're really carving out a new niche,

books for people who don't read.

- Yeah, I'm gonna just move to just straight-up picture books.

- Sorry to interrupt, but Trae Lang is here.

Should I grab him? - Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm ready.

This is the Colombia grad student

I was telling you about.

Did you read his book?

- No, Marcus, I-- the last afro-futurism book

that you foisted upon me sold shit.

- Come on, it wasn't that bad.

And besides, this one for them, one for me model,

doesn't really work if I never get one for me.

- Can you just, like, summarize it for me?

Like, half a page.

- Sure, okay. - Cool.

♪ ♪

[cheers and applause]

- Damn, white people wilding around here, huh?

- [chuckles] Yeah.

- Trae. Marcus Watkins.

- What's up, Marcus Watkins?

- All right.

I gotta tell you,

I've been really looking forward to this meeting.

- How come you got no brothers on the wall?

Do the right thing. - Oh, yeah, right, Sal's.

Yeah, that's funny. - Dude, I'm fucking with you.

You got plenty of Black people up there.

So what are you, head of the urban division?

- I try to create more opportunities

for writers of color, sure.

But what I loved about you is that you're young

and honest and, man, your writing is so visceral.

I think together we can refine it.

- That's crazy--so now they got Black dudes telling me

it's too Black instead of white guys.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, I didn't say all that.

I didn't say it was too Black. - Dude, I'm not dumb.

I know what "refined" is code for.

- All right, let me explain what I can do for you.

My job is to nurture your vision

and ultimately to fight for you.

We just have to get it in shape first.

- So you're a fighter? - Yeah, I'd say so.

- I'd say you're the middleman.

Like, dude, I'm not trying to insult you--I get it.

We need guys like you to translate guys like me.

- I'm sorry, guys like me? - Come on, Barack.

Safe, non-threatening.

Al Roker, LeVar Burton, Samuel L. Jackson.

- Samuel L. Jackson? Non-threatening?

- Dude, you think you get to go from "Pulp Fiction"

to Capital One if you really scare white people?

- Okay, I'd like to talk about the book.

- See, that's just it, man. I say crazy shit all the time.

And if you wanna be my editor,

you gotta be ready to spar with me.

- Okay.

Look, you are genuinely talented.

And this is a good manuscript

that could be a great book.

But you've obviously come in here

with some preconceived notions about who I am

and what I do and how I do it.

Now, I'm gonna be honest with you.

No one is gonna buy this book, including this company,

the way that it is.

But if you are willing to pull up your sleeves

and do the work, we can get it there.

- Classic Obama.

- Well, look, man, I'm just trying to be real with you.

Huh? I thought you liked to spar.

- Yeah, whatever, uh, Marcus Watkins,

I think this meeting is over.

I'ma go meet with the other editors

I gotta meet with today. - Okay, that's fine.

Good luck finding one that will publish

a 1,000-page book from an unknown author.

Fuck y'all looking at?

- That's a pretty hot Sam Jackson take.

I ain't gon' hold you up. - The kid's a fucking nut.

- Yeah, but that's what you do, bro.

You're the nut gatherer,

dealing with these nutty ass writers, man.

- I tried to dap him up,

and he goes with this white guy business handshake.

- No dap, he we went for the graduation handshake?

- Yeah, I mean, like I'm some kind of square

that can't dap you up.

- Yeah, man, sound like he hit you with the crossover

straight to the basket.

Everybody so used to vying for your approval,

and now you're vying for his.

- Yeah, bro, you should be a psychiatrist.

- I should be a psychiatrist,

dealing with your little weak ass problems.

- I can't believe this kid didn't dap me up.

- Hold on, hold on one second. Hold that thought.

Hold that thought. Yo, yo, it's Yogi.

Ah! Mr. DiMarzio, how are you, man?

Nothing, man, chilling right here

with Carmelo and Kristaps.

wondering why you ain't got the 2017 sweet.

2017 is our year.

Uh-huh, full of linguini, just like you like it.

Ahh, my pasta brother. All right, man,

I'll talk to you soon. Tell your wife I said hello.

All right. Big bitch--hello.

- Yo, I thought you sold luxury boxes.

It sounds like you got demoted to concessions.

- Bro, they love pasta. I don't know what it is, bruh.

This motherfucker, he don't even watch the game.

All he do is eat the linguini, the long ass ones, too.

Him and his wife be doing the little...

[slurps] And then they kiss.

Anyway, look, bro, I'm trying to tell you.

Don't let this dude get you off your square.

Like, bro, you know what you are.

You know who you are, man. You're a happy dude.

You're successful. He's not, fuck 'im.

- Man, you're right. You're right.

Man, fuck Trae, small ass child.

Yeah, he's shorter than me,

and, like, I'm not tall, you know.

- [sighs]

[phone buzzes]

Give me a scratch.

Okay, I'm good. Thank you.

It's so funny how the scratching feels amazing,

and then the second it's too much, it's like, ahh, stop.

And also, will you put a carrot in my ass?

- Hmm? Sorry.

Sorry, work stuff.

Can I ask you something?

- What? - Who am I like?

- Who are you like?

- Yeah, like, who do you I remind you of?

Who am I similar to?

A celebrity, if that helps, a Black celebrity.

- Is this a trap? - No.

No, I was just trying to narrow it down for you.

- I mean, I know this is really obvious,

especially since we met right around inauguration,

but I have to say Obama.

- Really? Why?

- He's so smart and, like, poised.

He unifies people, you know? He never gets angry.

He always keeps his cool.

- Thanks. - Are you mad?

- No, no.

- I think being compared to the president

is a huge compliment.

- And it is. It--it totally is.

- This was your idea. - Yeah, I know, I know.

- So I haven't thought about this in years,

but I know who else you remind me of.

- Who?

- I had the biggest crush on him when I was a kid,

the "Reading Rainbow" guy.

And I remember he had an earring, too,

and that just blew my mind.

You've never thought about getting an earning, right?

narrator: Marcus knew Mia was in a relationship...

[phone dings]

But he was, too, so really,

what was the harm in them continuing to talk?

[Dionne Warwick's "You're Gonna Need Me"]

- ♪ Mmm, you're gonna want me back in your arms ♪

- Hey, asshole, move!

- ♪ One day, one day ♪

♪ You're gonna want me back ♪

narrator: Hiding in the plausible deniability

of their "friendship,"

Marcus was able to converse with Mia constantly.

- I issued a very formal apology on my YouTube channel.

[phone vibrating]

Like, I talked about it honestly ad nauseam

for, like, an hour, and most of my videos are only

like 30 minutes, so I feel like--I don't know.

This is my happiness, this is my chance,

this is my opportunity to, like, reclaim that.

Like, "Keely, she's just like us."

I don't know, I'm just like, do I need to keep bringing it up

and, like, hashing it out in this book?

narrator: He took her apparent reciprocity as a sign

that the relationship she was in

had just as many cracks as his own.

- Can I get a Greek salad?

- I'd like the chicken Caesar, but sub broccoli for chicken.

- Yo, what the fuck? - What?

Don't worry about it.

- Sub broccoli for chicken on a chicken Caesar?

- Don't worry about it. Yes, it's the Caesar taste,

but I want it a little more green.

- She just wants a bag of roughage.

- I would really love your finest bag of roughage.

Thank you. - Wow.

- Well, now it's like a whole thing where there are

two Black people arguing about vegetables in the store.

narrator: For years, Emily's regular night shifts at Maeve

had afforded both her and Marcus an autonomy

that each of them had always tried

to reinforce with a mutual trust.

Marcus had, on multiple occasions,

tested that trust with so-called "harmless crushes."

Technically, though, he'd never crossed the line.

- Hey, I thought you had the night off.

- No, I'll be back late.

Tiffany's out sick, and we're short-staffed.

- All good, have a good night. - You, too.

- ♪ In your arms ♪

♪ You're gonna need me one day ♪

♪ You're gonna want me back ♪

narrator: But this time around,

Mia was the only thing he could think about.

- ♪ Tell me who's gonna take ♪

♪ The heartbreak I took ♪

♪ And still be there ♪

♪ At the close of the book ♪

♪ When you've grown older ♪

♪ And lost your way ♪

♪ And all your rainbows ♪

[phone dings]

♪ Have turned to gray ♪

♪ You better stop ♪

♪ And think about what you're doing ♪

♪ You better stop ♪

♪ And think about what you're doing ♪

♪ Well, give a little back ♪

♪ Of what you've been taking ♪

♪ You better start being real ♪

♪ And stop your faking ♪

♪ You better prepare yourself ♪

♪ Ooh, for that rainy day ♪

♪ You better throw a little-- ♪

- Hey, sorry I'm late.

- Oh, just 35 minutes, no worries.

- Wow, you're calling me out with specifics.

- You look good.

- I'm coming from something else, so don't read into it.

♪ ♪

- So how long is the boyfriend gone?

- He's always out of town for work.

We're basically long-distance.

- Oh, man, how's that going?

- It is going.

Where's your girl? - She's working tonight.

- She know we're hanging out?

- Okay, what are you trying to do me?

- I'm just curious. - This isn't, like, illicit.

You said it yourself, we're just hanging.

- Exactly.

So how long you guys been married?

- Four years, but we've been together since grad school.

And, you know...

I-I do feel guilty being here.

- You should. - What about you?

- My situation is different. - How so?

- Cause it's my business,. [laughter]

♪ ♪

So before Emily,

you ever dated a Black woman?

- Oh, snap. We doing this now?

- We are, yeah. - All right.

Yeah, I mean, I've dated Black women.

- You ever been in a long-term relationship with one?

That's what I thought.

- All right, all right, all right.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

I know what you're thinking, but I'm not that guy.

I always thought

that I would marry a Black woman somewhere down the line,

but then I just ended up with Emily, so...

- That's really romantic. - Come on, I don't know.

Mia, I'm sure I have my issues,

but I guess deep down,

I was always afraid of fucking it up with them.

♪ ♪

- Would you fuck things up with me?

♪ ♪

- You're fucking flirting, man. - [laughs]

Yeah. [laughter]

♪ ♪

It's a habit.

♪ ♪

- You know, honestly, I haven't been

in that many relationships, period.

Like, there was high school, and there was college,

and then there was Emily, so...

- Mister Monogamy. Well, kind of.

- Okay, seriously, what is wrong with you?

- [laughs] I'm fucking with you, sorry.

I mean, we're obviously both just bored,

so we might as well have fun.

♪ ♪

- I'm hungry. You hungry?

[upbeat music]

You probably can't sub for broccoli here.

- You know what? Just for that, I'm asking.

♪ ♪

- ♪ Ba-da-da-da-da-da-da ♪

♪ ♪

- Two more vodka DCs, AKA diet cokes,

flying at you.

- Yeah, you almost made it sound like a real drink.

- It is.

- Your parents are really attractive.

- Oh, I know.

It's probably why they got divorced

and then married a couple uggos.

One hottie per household.

♪ ♪

- Oh, this hadn't occurred to me

when I sat here, I swear to God.

- Yeah, who sits in the middle of someone's couch?

- Well, you have all these pillows and all,

like, expensive-looking. - Really?

But there's just so much space.

You can move a pillow.

- I know, but I mean, yeah. I probably could have, yeah.

- Empower yourself.

♪ ♪

- So what do your parents do?

- My mom is a loan manager at the Bank of Maryland.

- Oh, wow. - Yeah.

And my dad owns six Popeyes.

- Yo, what?

- Yeah, everyone reacts like that, I know.

My mom gave my dad the loan for his first Popeyes.

- Oh, whoa. - And then he left her.

- Oh, my God. - I know.

It's trifling, right?

- I was, like, am I gonna go live right now?

And I did. He fucking left her.

♪ ♪

- Do you want me to move over?

- You can do whatever you want.

♪ ♪

- I should probably head home.

♪ ♪

- I have an early morning.

- Yeah, I have an earlier morning.

- This was fun. - Yeah.

- Good stuff. - Yeah, great stuff.

- Okay. - Okay.

♪ ♪

- Bye. - Bye.

[door closes]

♪ ♪

- There is a problem-- - What did I do?

- Mm, hi.

- Hey, I thought you hated this show.

- What time is it? Is it super late?

- Kinda, last-minute dinner with some agents,

and then we out and got some drinks afterwards, so...

Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't text you.

Was work alright?

- Everything okay?

- Yeah.

Yeah, I'm just--just tired.

- Okay, good night. - Good night.

- [shouts]

- Yes. Here, bro.

Don't chug it. It's vodka.

- You ever give him the wrong sippy cup?

- Yeah, mm-hmm, one time.

He threw it right up, too. His first drink, man.

There you go, sweetheart. Armbar!

- Hey. - It's okay, it's okay.

- So what's up? Somebody called you Van Jones?

- No-- - But you're Marcus.

I'll kick somebody's ass, bro. - No.

I meet someone else? I think.

- What do you mean you think, unless it's a ghost?

- No, like it might be something real,

even though she has a boyfriend.

- Oh, my God, are you serious?

Bro, that's why I don't even leave the house, man,

shit like that.

I do my little errands. I do shit with the kids.

And I go home, man. That's just too messy.

What are you doing?

- Okay, but can I show you a picture of this girl?

- No, mm-mm, then you make me like her,

then I'm thinking about her.

No, I don't even wanna be a part of it.

- All right, here we go. - Lemme see, hurry, up.

Oh, damn! - Yeah.

- Bro, what are you even worried about?

You have no chance with this girl.

- All right, all right. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Whoa, whoa, you let me see. Now let me live.

Now I'm invested. Yogi's approval.

Lemme see--oh, PG County.

She went to Spelman? She makes more money than you.

- How do you know she makes more money than me?

- I can just tell, that smooth ass forehead,

that nose, those teeth.

You just know she probably bite her apples real smooth.

Yep, she got insurance.

Like, bro, what are you really doing right now?

Like, Emily, that's your speed.

She don't mind your little, low five-figure salary

that you're putting up.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, high five figures.

It's mid to high five figures.

- It's low.

- But I don't think that Mia cares about that either.

I mean, even though it doesn't really matter

because we're technically just friends.

- Oh, "we're just friends."

You always show me your friends on social media,

huh, and they always be fine as hell like that.

Are you not happy with Emily?

- I don't know, man. Everything is just fucking off.

Like, I just--I don't feel that spark anymore.

- All right, so let me ask you a question.

When's the last time y'all did, like, a romantic getaway?

Like, me and Tina, we do, like, a little Catskills weekend--

- Bro, the fucking mountains are not gonna fix this.

I feel like I can't show her who I really am.

- Okay, Spider-Man, like, what are you talking about?

- No, I'm serious!

We fell in love with these versions of each other, right?

- Mm-hmm. - And now the dust is settled.

And, bro, we're just us.

- Bro, you sound like one of them white ass books

you be selling, man. What are you talking about?

You know you gotta work at this shit, right?

Like, make the happiness happen.

I'ma tell you something that you might not wanna hear.

This Mia shit, shut it down, bro.

Shut it down, man.

Go home to your wife, bro.

- Yeah, you-- yeah, you're right.

You're right. - Mm-hmm.

- You're totally right. - I know I'm right.

That's what's up, baby, yes! There you go!

There you go!

[line trilling] - Hey, what's up?

- Yo, how you feeling today?

- Honestly, I'm pretty hungover.

I think I'm just gonna take it easy,

get in the bath, crawl into bed.

I don't know, you?

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- Is that soup up yet?

Thank you.

All right, I'll take an Advil.

And do you have anything else that's good for a hangover?

Dope.

Yo, hold that door.

♪ ♪

- Can I help you?

- Amar'e Stoudemire?

- Bingo. - Who is it?

- Babe, you ordered food? - No.

- Postmates. - Okay.

Huh, yo, Gatorade. My man, I appreciate that.

- All right. - [chuckles]

narrator: All Marcus could think was thank God

he hadn't risked everything for someone so utterly

out of his league.

At least now he knew.

And a distinct focus washed over him.

Marcus had been acting crazy.

He had always loved Emily.

Sure, they'd been on autopilot for a while.

But what couple hasn't had their rough patches?

- Hey.

♪ ♪

What's wrong?

♪ ♪

- "The first year I brought her home to Michigan for Christmas,

"she said the yams were too spicy.

So my family still just calls her 'Spicy.'"

- Em--

- Hang on, I'm just scrolling through a bunch

of pictures of "ugly white babies."

- Em--

- "Sorry, I know I'm being mean.

This is just my only outlet."

Oh, and how about these?

From literally the middle of the fucking night last night.

♪ ♪

"I don't think she understands me.

You understand me better than my own wife."

And then... [sniffles]

"I shouldn't have gotten married so young.

I feel stuck."

♪ ♪

[quiet indistinct vocalizing]